why I left home.&family visit.

Recently my family came up to visit.
(say hi!)

My sister and I were talking, and asked why I left home. (It was different wording, but same idea.)

I hope she never truly understands why I left.
I have several reasons, but the number one reason is the house next door.
I told one brother this, and he asked if I'd move back if they moved houses.

It is hard to try to explain things to siblings when you know they still wont understand. How could they?
I love them all, and I miss them some times, but I don't miss the house, or where it sits, or what it sits next to. The man hasn't lived in that house next door for many years, but the memories live there still.

I was in very bad health. I hadn't dealt with anything. I didn't know how to handle emotions, I was depressed. I was suicidal. I had to leave that place.

I enjoyed the time with my family. It was like my mind just clicked over to a whole different me-the old me, only without all the sorrow. I jumped right back in with my brothers with their teasing play, putting on faces to "scare" or act scared. Right back into being the ear for anyone with any pointless thing to say. Right back into (almost) all those things I left behind when I left that home.
It was nice. It was a new, yet familiar way of being.
It was stressful since I am no longer used to so many people, yet it seemed like it'd never been any other way.
No one changed, other than getting taller, and a little older physically.

Memories good and bad make up lives. It's how you choose to respond to them that makes you who you are.